SAKURA, SAKURA: My Time in Japan

By Carolina Veranen-Phillips

It is with an open mind and familiar excitement that Carolina moves to the Land of the Rising Sun, where ancestral culture intermingles tightly with high-tech modernism, and social rules are taken to the extreme.

She discovers a country filled with subtle beauty, well-preserved traditions and polite, respectful people. The experience teaches her how important it is to appreciate the simple joys in life, to be accepting of things that cannot be changed - "shoganai" - and to fully respect the power of Mother Nature, who always has the upper hand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Books on Demand
• Release date: Feb 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9783753484600

Carolina Veranen-Phillips

Born into a multi-cultural family and having lived in various countries including Portugal, France, the US, the UK, Germany and Japan, Carolina loves to travel, meet new people, discover new cultures, and... write about it. Her engaging style and optimistic approach to life makes us want to follow her in her adventures, get lost in her world and immerse ourselves in her way of seeing life. She is convinced that open-mindedness and tolerance are keys to a better world. For more information, visit www.carolinaveranen.com Also by Carolina Veranen-Phillips: - Mint Tea to Maori Tattoo: ISBN 9780755214730. - A Stop on the Way: ISBN 9783738608434.

Book preview

About the Author

Born into a multi-cultural family and having lived in various countries including Portugal, France, the US, the UK, Germany and Japan, Carolina loves to travel, meet new people, discover new cultures, and… write about it.

Her engaging style and optimistic approach to life makes us want to follow her in her adventures, get lost in her world and immerse ourselves in her way of seeing life.

She is convinced that open-mindedness and tolerance are keys to a better world.

For more information, visit www.carolinaveranen.com

Also by Carolina Veranen-Phillips:

Mint Tea to Maori Tattoo: ISBN 9780755214730

A Stop on the Way: ISBN 9783738608434

To all the people who crossed my path during my time in Rokkasho, who have helped

me and made my stay even more enjoyable.

Acknowledgements:

I would like to thank all the people who have helped and supported us during our time in Rokkasho, Japan. You will certainly recognise yourselves.

Thank you also to David Scambler for the proof reading of the book.

Note:

1. Glossary of Japanese terms: Please refer to the Glossary of Japanese terms at the end of the book for the Japanese words in italics.

2. History on Japan: Please refer to the Brief History on Japan at the end of the book for more information about any historical dates and periods.

Table of Contents

PART I - END OF SUMMER: ACQUAINTANCE WITH JAPAN

Rokkasho-mura

Shrines and summer festivals

The Land of the Rising Sun and the power of nature

In Japan, learning is a path

First impression – a flying start

PART II - AUTUMN: GETTING USED TO JAPAN

Japanese food and Aomori specialities

Politeness – tatemae and honne

Is Japan changing?

Traditional Japanese confections

Influences from outside, the Western World and China

Otsukimi- autumn moon-viewing

Momijigari,hunting for autumn foliage

Shiriyazaki Lighthouse & Kandachime horses

Salmon Festival - Sangyo Matsuri

Asamushi

Kanjiresults

Second impression – acclimatisation

PART III - WINTER IN NORTH JAPAN: EVERLASTING

HIBERNATION

First drive in the Japanese snow

Christmas and New Year

Back to Rokkasho winter life

Thoughts about life and a sense of belonging?

More workshops

Sapporo Snow Festival, Hokkaido

Finland and Japan

Aomori experience in winter

Whaling – controversy

Third impression – cravings, the effect of winter?

PART IV - SPRING: AWAKENING OF NATURE

Sakura

An unusual Golden Week

Osore-zan and Hotokega-ura

Accession of the new emperor

Exploring Aomori-ken with the Soccer Kodenji Challenge

About fish(ing) and boys

Kimonoexperience

Rokkasho Festival

Fourth impression – perception of the people of Japan

PART V- SUMMER AGAIN

Travels in southwest Japan

Summer festivals

Hagibis

Coronavirus pandemic

The bear

Last impression

THE END

GLOSSARY

BRIEF HISTORY OF JAPAN

PART I - End of Summer:

Acquaintance with Japan

"I need a change..." I said.

"What about Japan?" asked my husband.

"Yes, let’s do it!" I answered.

14th August 2018, 18:30. The plane has landed at Narita Airport, Tokyo, Japan. As I get off the plane, the warm, humid air of Tokyo envelops me. I stop for a second, take a deep breath, mentally picturing the oxygen being transported through the blood vessels to reach my cells. I exhale slowly. Here I am. Now. In Japan. Hello Japan!

It is midsummer. The hottest period of the year. I had visited Tokyo a year earlier and knew it would be hot and humid. A picture pops up in my mind, of us walking through the overcrowded markets of Asakusa, in front of Sensō-ji, Tokyo’s oldest Buddhist temple, feeling the sweat drip down the side of my face and looking at my children running around with their bright smiling faces and their soaking wet hair.

It’s getting late. Guy has booked a hotel for the night. We’ll catch the Tohoku Shinkansen tomorrow. This is the bullet train that will take us to our new home. Tonight, we just need to sleep. We are tired because of the jet lag. I guess we won’t be enjoying the onsen at the hotel tonight.

15th August 2018, 10:30. Quick, we have one hour to catch the train. Let’s buy breakfast on the way. I am glad I recognise Ueno station. It is where we went to get our Starbucks Coffee last year during our short stay in Tokyo. The Shinkansen arrives. It will stop for only two or three minutes. We jump on the carriage and quickly find our seats. I love the Shinkansen. It is such a great way to travel. It is spacious, clean, modern and fast. On the train, I am enjoying my soymilk cappuccino very much. I still haven’t realised what is happening.

We left Germany to come to spend a year in Aomori-ken, one of the most isolated and uninhabited regions of Japan, at the northernmost tip of Honshu, Japan’s main island, nine hours away from Tokyo by car or 3h30 on the Shinkansen. At the moment, it feels like a holiday. The joy, excitement and curiosity that comes with the opportunity of discovering a new country and its people. Will it stay that way?

Life has dealt me a new hand. A new country, a new lifestyle, a new language, a new culture, and I have the chance to choose how I want to use it. One step at the time. First, observe my surroundings, learn from my experience, remain flexible, adapt, and enjoy every minute of it. As G. Stanley Hall says "Man is largely a creature of habit, and many of his activities are more or less automatic reflexes from the stimuli of his environment". In order to happily settle down, I need to step out of my comfort zone and create a new routine, adapted to my new environment. Lulled by the monotonous sound of the Shinkansen, I close my eyes with a smile on my face and fall asleep. I get suddenly woken up by an announcement on the train. They are saying something in Japanese. I don’t understand anything apart from okudasai and arigatō gozaimasu. I look at the screen, where hiragana, katakana and kanji letters are dancing together. I am trying to read the hiragana and katakana that I learnt a few months earlier. I can still remember some of them. But quickly it gives me a headache. I tell myself, "Well, it is going to take some time to be able to read this fluently!"

The person next to me, notices that I’m writing the hiragana and katakana alphabets and some kanji characters. I ask him politely why there are various ways of saying the same kanji letter. He talks about on-yomi and kun-yomi which will only make sense to me later, and finishes by saying that if it is on its own, the kanji will be pronounced one way but if it is coupled to another kanji, the pronunciation will be different. It is just something one has to learn. I already find it very challenging to learn 2000 kanji to be fluent, on top of the hiragana and katakana alphabets. But if on top of that each kanji has different pronunciations, it is going to take some time before I can speak. I laugh.

Since we only booked the tickets the night before, we didn’t get to sit together. Suddenly, Aksel, my youngest son, comes over to swap seats with me for a while. As I return later to swap back, I discover he has already made friends with the man sitting next to him. He is even watching a cartoon on the man’s phone. "How did he manage that? I wonder. People in this country are so helpful and friendly. Once I return to my seat, the man asks me, where we were going. I answer, Rokkasho. Rokkasho-mura, ahh repeats the man, looking surprised and maybe even thinking, Who on earth would be going there? I add, It’s for my husband’s work. He asks, At the Fusion Energy Research Centre? Yes, exactly. At QST," I replied, smiling. Now I just want to arrive. I want to be there.

Rokkasho-mura

Rokkasho-mura is our final destination. Here, the weather is quite different. Still very humid but far enough north to no longer be subtropical, it’s 10 °C less on average than in the capital. The temperature difference is very noticeable immediately as we step off the Shinkansen into the cooler air.

Map of Japan

Rokkasho-mura. Mura means village. Rokkasho is a village in Aomori-ken, one of the 47 prefectures in Japan. So far north that only the Tsugaru Strait, which connects the Sea of Japan with the Pacific Ocean, separates it from Hokkaido.

I like the name Aomori (Ao or 青, meaning blue, and Mori or 森, meaning forest), the Blue Forest. This mystic name appropriately depicts the region in which I will spend the next year of my life. A region with few people but an abundance of nature, where lakes, mountains and pine forests meet the sea. It is a welcoming place, inviting me to reflect on my life, and connect with my environment.

Aomori Prefecture

Our arrival in Japan coincides with the end of Obon, one of Japan’s three major holiday seasons. Very quickly I will find out how festive Japan is during summer, with its enjoyable matsuri (festivals) and beautiful hanabi (fireworks) dispersed all over the country. Arriving two weeks before the beginning of the school year hopefully gives me the chance to become more familiar with my new surroundings.

The ocean is the first thing in Rokkasho that I want to see. After having spent nearly ten years in Munich, miles away from the ocean, I long to be near a deep blue seemingly infinite body of water. My fascination for the ocean is not new but I still wonder where it comes from, this fascination. Maybe it’s because I was born on the Atlantic coast of Portugal? We live a 15 minute walk from the beach. As I step on the beach for the first time, I instantly fall in love with it. I tell myself, "No matter what happens this year, I will always feel happy, here, by the water. I feel an instant connection to nature. The children, following their impulse to enjoy themselves, run laughing towards the water. I follow them, also running. I want to touch it. Is it warm like in Indonesia, or cold like in Portugal? I wonder... It is not too cold. Close to the shore, it is warm enough to paddle in. Some moments later, Aksel comes running back to me and hugs me, Thank you so much, Maman, for finding this beach!" I think the ocean has a similar effect on him as it does on me. He makes me smile on the inside.

This beach is very different to a southern European beach, on the crowded Mediterranean coast. By contrast, it is wild, undomesticated, as if Mother Nature has taken back what belongs to her. Not many people visit. A few surfers during summer when the weather allows it, the occasional person walking their dog after work or fishermen in the water wearing waders to keep themselves dry. When I walk to the beach, alone or with my children, it is as if I’m entering a parallel universe. Birds, including kites, eagles, ravens and seagulls are the masters here. As soon as we step on the sand, the eagles fly over to check us out. Sometimes they feel too close. I remember going for a walk on the beach, while Xavier, my eldest son, was running up and down the dunes, a few metres away from me, when suddenly one of the eagles circled over him. Immediately an image of a huge eagle grabbing a sheep with his claws in the Andes came to mind. I must have seen it on television... The birds of prey here are a lot smaller though, so there was no such danger. Such a thing would be inconceivable at this beach. Nevertheless, I guess this is how a human brain works, always trying to compare today’s reality with images from the past. After a while, the eagle disappeared, leaving us to enjoy the view and the peace alone.

Rokkasho Beach

There is something about this beach that fascinates me, always reminding me of the true power of nature. It feels alive, constantly changing. Each time I come, I wonder what the ocean will have brought to shore this time, what shape the wind will have sculpted in the sand, which bird will be waiting for me, whose footprints will be present? Each day brings a new scenery, sometimes subtly, sometimes more visibly. On one occasion, the shore is filled with flotsam and jetsam, the next with seaweed, sometimes just one species of seashell, perhaps flattened sea urchins or empty scallop shells, some other, transparent jellyfish or orange starfish. Some days the wind sweeps the whole beach, covering everything with a fresh layer of sand, as if to say, "Here’s a fresh canvas, start anew!" And on another yet, the ocean carves the sand into tiny, regular domes of wet sand, some golden, some dark, leaving behind a multitude of trickles of water like a miniature irrigation system along the shore. A scene that lasts until the tide rises and erases it, replacing it with a new scene, another piece of nature’s art. If we walk long enough, we reach the mouth of the Oipe River, where the crystal-clear shallow water encourages the sun’s rays to reflect off the golden sand at the bottom, making them shine and glitter, dancing with the flow of the water. This beach is my connection to nature, helping me find a sense of peace, wellbeing, and a feeling of pure freedom, mixed with the strange sensation of being only a minute grain of sand in this infinite universe. And still this place regularly shows me that everything has its place. In order to provide a universal balance, each actor, even a grain of sand, has its role to play. Nothing is left aside.

Nature abounds in and around the village. Not only the ocean, but forests, fields, lakes and rivers, too. Before school starts, the children and I explore the village on foot, discovering where the international school, the village pool, the shops and the river are. To my surprise, the streets are empty. Occasionally a car drives by slowly, then someone rides past on a bike. Where are the people of Rokkasho? I read that there were 11,000 residents in Rokkasho-mura, but I don’t see them! Where are they? Maybe on holiday? Japanese school hasn’t started yet and it is summer after all. In fact, this is the first question I ask my Japanese friend, Itsuko-san, "Where are the Rokkasho people? When hearing the question, Itsuko-san looks at me, puzzled, wondering what I mean. She hesitates before answering, Well, people are at work... And if they do not work, like the housewives or mothers, they stay at home, go shopping, or are busy with their daily routine. But no, no one wanders around the streets."

At this point, I realise I’ve missed an important detail. Rokkasho-mura, proclaimed in April 1889, after the start of the Edo period, is in fact an agglomeration of six smaller hamlets. Obuchi, the hamlet where we live, is only one of them. So these 11,000 inhabitants are actually spread over a 252 square kilometre area, almost the same area as Munich which has over a million inhabitants! As soon as I recognise that, it makes sense not to see many people in the village. Coming to Obuchi feels like been transported to another world, where time has suddenly slowed down. My busy European life is momentarily set aside, giving me time to enjoy nature, the sunshine and to discover Japan. The opportunity of a lifetime.

On one of our walks back from the beach during the first week, I experience my first Obuchi encounter. While waiting at the traffic lights, my children and I notice a lady next to us. I politely say, "konnichiwa to her, smiling, and she replies, Bonjour," bowing slightly. She must have heard us speaking French. It is Itsuko-san. I didn’t know at the time, but her husband works with my husband at QST. We are walking in the same direction, so we exchange a few words in English. While talking, we realise that we have a friend in common, Yoshie. I’d met Yoshie when she was living in Munich a couple of years earlier and had visited her the previous year when she and her family had moved to Tsukuba, near Tokyo. Itsuko-san and I decide to exchange phone numbers. Besides buying groceries at the supermarket, she is my first human interaction in the village. Little did I know that Itsuko-san would become my greatest helper throughout my time in Rokkasho. She introduced me to many aspects of Japanese culture, especially the kind you don’t typically see as a tourist. She took time to show me around, taking me to places like the Misawa Aviation Museum, the main Shinto Shrine in Shichinohe and the beach in Noheji.

One thing she helps greatly with is her assistance with my son’s strong gluten intolerance. As soon as Itsuko-san found out about Xavier’s coeliac condition, she went out of her way to help, calling many Japanese food companies to check if their products contained gluten. Something I would not have been able to do alone. She showed me the various gluten-free flours I could use, including rice flour, buckwheat flour, corn and potato starch. She also helped me discover gluten-free (GF) products. I naïvely thought Japan would be an easy country to live in with a gluten intolerant child. But contrary to what people might think, most Japanese food contains gluten. It starts with soy sauce, which contains gluten and is used everywhere. From day one, I immersed myself in learning kanji characters, starting with ko-mugi (meaning wheat). Being able to recognise these kanji made my life a lot easier, allowing me to look through the list of ingredients and decide whether or not packaged foods were suitable for Xavier. To be on the safe side, I avoided packaged food as much as possible, as I previously did in Germany, basing our family diet on fresh food like rice, fruit, vegetables, meat, fish and tofu, as well as dairy products, juices, eggs, nuts and seeds. Eventually I found icecream, crisps, popcorn and rice crackers suitable for Xavier. Luckily, our diet range in Japan was still quite broad and generally healthy. By avoiding processed foods like sauces, noodles, and other wheat-based products such as dumplings and gyoza, we were unfortunately going to miss out on some Japanese culinary specialities... Such is life! With time, I started cooking Japanese food with alternative products. Instead of making tempura or gyoza with wheat flour, I make my tempura with rice flour, my gyoza with preprepared rice flour pastry and use gluten-free soy sauce for my stir-fries. In the first couple of weeks, I found a company online offering a broad range of rice products including ramen, pasta, bread and doughnuts. Finding products at the supermarket is something that we take for granted when we live in a country in which we can read and speak the language. It’s not so easy in a country where we can’t. My grocery shopping experience during the first month was like going on a research expedition, discovering new territories, new species, new previously undiscovered culinary ideas. Without understanding the lettering, our brain looks for other cues to recognise products. Sometimes it works, while other times, there are surprises. We discovered mirin, when we bought what we thought was a bottle of oil. In fact, this essential condiment in the Japanese cuisine is a lot thinner than oil. It is a bit like sake but with a lower alcohol content and a higher sugar content and is often used in stir-fries. My children love it and now I use it all the time!

Shrines and summer festivals

On a sunny morning in September, Itsuko-san takes me to the Shichinohe shrine festival. She was asked by one of her friends to help during the preparations by dressing the men, with their traditional but complicated costumes. She invited me to show me the backstage activities of the festival.

While driving to Shichinohe, I ask Itsuko-san, "How far is it to the Shichinohe Temple? She replies, It’s a bit less than an hour... before politely adding, it’s a shrine, ... not a temple. Oh I reply, a bit confused. I’m not really sure what the difference is. She carries on, A temple is a place of worship for Buddhism, a shrine is for Shintoism. Ah! I say, trying to clarify the difference in my head. Now is as good a time as any to begin to understand religion in Japan. So, what is the difference between Shintoism and Buddhism?" I ask. I am pleased, because we have an hour’s drive and I’m really interested to find out more. Itsuko-san uses the time to explain the concept of these two main religions in Japan.

Shintoism or kami-no-michi (the path of the gods) is an animist religion deeply rooted in the Japanese people and traditions. The kami, also called Shinto gods, are sacred spirits, which take the form of things important to life such as trees, mountains or rain. After people die, they become kami and are revered by their family as their ancestral kami. In contrast to other religions, Shintoism has no specific way of life. There is no right, no wrong. Nobody is perfect. Shintoism is an optimistic faith. Humans are inherently good, while evil only comes from evil spirits. That is why most of the Shinto rituals are performed to keep evil spirits away through prayer, purification and offerings.

Buddhism, originating in India, arrived in Japan via China and Korea in the 6th century. After some brief conflicts with the Shinto religion, a way to co-exist was found. The Buddhists saw the kami as a revelation from Buddha, and the Shinto followers saw Buddha and other Buddhist deities as kami. The consequence of reconciling the two religions meant that Buddhist temples were attached to local Shinto shrines and devoted to both kami and Buddhas. The two religions never truly fused but remain closely linked.

During the Nara Period (710-1185), the great Buddhist monasteries in the capital Nara gained strong political influence. At the end of the 16th century the two daimyo, or feudal lords, Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi, hoping to reunite Japan, fought the militant Buddhist monasteries and practically extinguished Buddhist influence on politics.

In the Meiji Period (1868-1912), Shintoism became a state religion in Japan, forging a national identity with the Emperor at its centre, to emancipate Shintoism from Buddhism. However, after the Second World War, Shintoism was separated again from the state. Nowadays, most of the Japanese people honour both religions for different purposes. Buddhism deals with death and is therefore practised more for funerals. Most households keep a small Buddhist altar, called a butsudan, in order to pay respect to their ancestors, whereas the Shinto religion is practised more for bringing good luck including safe childbirth, good health and success at exams.

Itsuko-san concludes, "We believe in both religions, we even combine them. For example, on New Year’s Day, we go to the Buddhist temple to be purified by ringing a purification bell, then we go to the Shinto shrine to happily celebrate the New Year."

Coming from a country where we honour none or only one religion at a time, I find it fascinating that the Japanese can so easily believe in two religions at once. It shows open-mindedness and flexibility.

Shinto Torii

As we arrive, Itsuko-san and I take the stairs leading to the shrine, past the wooden torii, or Shinto gate, decorated with two Japanese flags and a thick brown rope which is tied to both extremities of the gate. I will come to discover that this rope, called shimenawa, serves as protection